Fog of War
by stubbs.jerry
Summary: This is the story of Johnathan Testa during the waning days of Overwatch. Not every decision made is the right one, and nothing is quite as it seems. Please excuse my writing, I am but an engineer. While the mechanics of an engine are a snap to me, the mechanics of grammar elude me.


Chapter One: Fire Fight

The sounds of heavy footsteps drew nearer and nearer to him. Backed into a corner, sitting and hoping that they might pass him by as he hid in shadows cast by what was once a thriving office building. Johnathan Testa's vision darted around as he looked for the slightest hint of the pursuing soldiers. Sure enough, he heard faint shouts from around the corner growing ever louder. The shouts suddenly stopped, but the silence was shortly broken by a deafening crack. The shadow of the corner was all but obliterated in searing white light as the flashbang overrode his ability to perceive the world. In a desperate attempt to flee, he bound forward aimlessly in hopes of escape. Ramming straight through one, maybe two soldiers, with complete abandon he broke free from their encirclement.

His senses began to return only watch the tracer rounds whizz by and puffs of dirt and pavement explode around him. Recklessly bounding forward, he plowed past another soldier who tried to out flank him. _Nope. Not happening._ He quietly thought to himself.

"Spyglass Actual, this is Royal Fife-Fife. I'm getting a good bit of activity down there. What kind of hornet's nest do you think you are trying to poke?"

"One moment. Uhhhh… please hold the line for our next available operator." Spyglass responded with a distracted sarcasm. Zig-zagging and rounding corner after corner, he came to a stop to take in his condition and surroundings. There was an eerie silence in his new hiding hole keeping him on edge. A couple of small puncture holes dotted his side armor.

"Spyglass. Royal Fife-Fife. Y'know, if you keep us on hold too long, we might give you a bad review. Right?"

"This is Spyglass. My apologies for the hold, but we had a few unpleasant customers to deal with."

"You okay down there?" Royal Fife-Fife asked switching tones from sarcasm to that of genuine concern.

"I'm not too bad off. I took some minor hits, but otherwise everything seems green." Spyglass responded with a hint of satisfaction.

A shot rang out as a high caliber round flew just inches past him and exploded the pavement into a new cloud around him. "Here we go again." he grumbled as he rolled his eyes. Darting full blast from his hole, he began evasively zigging and zagging. Something was amiss though. Another shot rang out. His mind raced to figure out exactly why he felt so particularly uneasy. With astonishment he realized why the math in his head simply wasn't adding up. There was only one shooter. Only one shot at a time. Same general impacts, but the aim was odd; as if they were more focused on incapacitating him more, than straight up gunning him down. "What now? Did he accidentally stumble into Talon sniper training grounds?" he said through frustrated gritted teeth.

"Royal Fife-Fife, this is Spyglass."

"Go ahead Spyglass, what can I do you for?"

"I've got a tiny sniper on my ass that seems to know where I'm going before I even get there and wants me pinned something fierce. Can you find them from your perch?"

"Acknowledged Spyglass. Keep'em firing, I sweep low and see if my FLIR can pick them up."

"Oh don't worry…" he began as another plume of debris shot in front of him, "I think they'll be more than happy to keep firing on me."

Johnathan could hear the high whine above him followed by thunderous roar of a low altitude pass. Occasionally, he would glimpse the shadow Royal Fife-Fife's Windstream fighter as it crisscrossed the terrain to find his mystery sniper.

"Spyglass? I hate to say it, but whoever this is is damn good. I got nothing from up here." Royal Fife-Fife called in. "Are you sure you're being pecked at down there?" he chuckled.

"The hell kind of question is that?! Yes, I am pretty damn well sure of it. Change of plans. I'm going to find this smug ass, and you're gonna drop 1,000 pounds of precision guided fury on their forehead, do you read me?"

"Loud and clear" Royal Fife-Fife confirmed as he screamed up to his precision attack altitude.

He tried to flee any way he could to find some sense of safety. Every turn seemed to yield a new cloud of dust and aerated concrete. Spyglass had about made his way finally to where he thought his enemy lay. Barely managing to turn the next corner, that is when he heard the beginning of a gunshot ringing out. Everything went red. Color quickly fading to blurry gray and followed by a pure blackness.

"GODDAMMIT! THAT MOTHERFUCKING FUCKER! WHO THE FUCK DO THEY THINK THEY ARE TRYING TO PISS OFF TODAY?!" Spyglass shouted in anger through the radio as he tossed his headset in front of him. Royal Fife-Fife had no choice but to turn his radio volume down lest he go deaf from the stream of obscenities making their way through the airwaves.

After a few minutes of seething, Royal Fife-Fife checked in, "Are you okay down there Spyglass? What the hell happened?"

"They sniped my bird out of the sky. That's what happened." Spyglass shot back in frustration. "Looks like we're going to have to go to plan Bravo. Making my way to the objective area now. Meet me there in 15 mike." he said in a focused tone.

"Acknowledged, see you then and there." he responded in similar focused fashion.

Spyglass gathered his hover drone communication gear and placed it haphazardly into his pack. Setting out at a moderate jog for the objective area, he kept a little more of a skeptical eye on each corner as he moved towards them. The last thing he wanted was to end up like his drone at the hands of that damn sniper. Slowly, Spyglass crept up to a good vantage point just on the other side of where his target was supposed to appear. Not long after arriving he started to hear the sounds of vehicles approaching the area.

As Spyglass started to pull out his equipment, Royal Fife-Fife piped in to let him know he was set up for target designation and strike. Spyglass pulled a rifle looking launcher from out of his gear and loaded in a visual reconnaissance projectile. Taking aim at a steep angle, he pulled the trigger and sent the drone flying into the air with a puff of compressed gas. As the drone began to reach its apogee, it sprouts two small rotor blades and began to scan the surrounding area as it slowly descended like an oversized oak seed.

"Royal Fife-Fife, this is Spyglass. Recon drone can confirm, all the warm bodies and hardware we're after are present and accounted for. Looks like our sniper friend is also on the adjacent building giving over-watch of the whole exchange. Launching targeting drone in 3 mikes, and do please be on time."

"Acknowledged Spyglass. Send me the invite and I'll bring fireworks to the party."

Spyglass loaded a target designation projectile into his launcher, took aim, and sent it on a similar way to the VRP. _Man, what the hell is this? The early 21_ _st_ _century? I shouldn't have to stick my neck out like this just to designate a damn target._ Spyglass thought to himself.

"Royal Fife-Fife, this is Spyglass. Everything is lit, you have 2 mikes. Make it rain."

"Acknowledged Spyglass. Weapons hot. Weapons free."

30 seconds later the earth shook all around Jonathan as he finished returning his gear to its proper storage, followed by a blast of heat from the entire payload detonating.

"Spyglass, this is Royal Fife-Fife. Fly over confirms, all designated targets eliminated. I'm RTB, see you at home."

"Acknowledged Royal Fife-Fife. I'm heading for my extraction now. I'll see you after debrief."


End file.
